Answer Me AU
by picchar
Summary: A couple of years before the Reapers attack, humans and turians are still at war. Shepard is captured. Garrus is tasked to interrogate her. This story is an AU of Mass Effect 1 and a ME Kink Meme Fill. Rated M for some violence and future sexual content. Mostly for the latter, but that will only be in one chapter.
1. Chapter 1

Shepard leaned back to rest her head against the cold metal wall of the shuttle, gritting her teeth. She closed her eyes and went over the last few hours again and again in her head. Rewind, pause, fast forward. Repeat.

_Where was it?_

That singular moment, that defining decision, that one action that landed her here, shackled, surrounded by the enemy. She wracked her brain, searching for the answer, and finding none. In the end, it was simply a chain of events. Multiple decisions, one event leading to another. She sighed. It didn't matter any longer. She had lost her team in an ambush.

_Jenkins._

_Williams._

_Alenko._

It was supposed to be a quick reconnaissance mission. Get in, get the data, get out. Then again, nothing ever goes as planned.

Jenkins had fallen first. Everything else was a blur. Biotics flared, bullets flew, and explosions shook the earth. She yelled for her team to fall back. But in just a few minutes she was on the ground with a heavy boot on her back and a gun muzzle to her head. Jenkins lied a few feet from her, his empty eyes staring back at her.

Shepard had struggled then, in a futile attempt to get the weight off her back. At least the gun withdrew. She twisted her head, searching for the rest of her team. There was no sign of them. She closed her eyes, praying to whatever higher being that might be listening that they had somehow escaped.

Suddenly, firm hands had lifted her, forcing her to face their leader, her captor; a turian with a pale grey-ish brown carapace and white colony markings. He seemed slightly surprised when her helmet was removed to reveal her face. He barked a turian word, followed by "Shepard", then a string of more turian words. It sounded like a question.

When she didn't respond, he paused and tilted his head, repeating what he had said. This time slower, and still nothing from Shepard. A soft cross between a snort and a laugh escaped him while he shook his head and motioned for his team to move out.

Shepard shoved the memory aside and opened her eyes, glaring at the back of her captor, who was speaking to the shuttle's pilot. From how the other turians treated him, it looked like he was a high ranking officer. She knew nothing other than that.

She grit her teeth in frustration. If only they left her helmet on. Without her it, she couldn't understand a word that passed between the aliens surrounding her. She had been scheduled to get a sub-dermal translation implant, but kept putting it off. She wished she hadn't.

Not that the turians were a talkative bunch anyway. Most were quiet, save for a couple of young turians, animatedly whispering to each other. _Probably recounting how they were able to capture Commander Shepard, war hero. _She snorted softly.

Now bored, she decided to examine the handcuffs strapped to her wrists. She parted her arms, testing the bond. The cuffs seemed to be employing some sort of magnet. At least it gave her a little bit of maneuverability. She glanced down at the matching cuffs on her ankles. She sighed. At least they weren't chaffing her ankles, since she was only in the skintight suit she wore under her armor.

She raised her head as the leader stood up and walked to her. He planted a three fingered hand onto the wall above her and spoke to her. Still in turian. Her blank stare must have confirmed that she couldn't understand him because he cut whatever he was saying short, shook his head, and turned back to his seat.

Shepard looked out the only window in the shuttle, spotting a gleaming turian cruiser. She took a deep breath to steel herself.

_Here we go._


	2. Chapter 2

Garrus growled softly as he adjusted the same line of code for the third time. He glanced over at the progress bar floating at the upper left corner of the console's display. It showed that the firing algorithm he completed earlier was 80% done compiling. He sighed. It was unlike him to be this distracted.

Then again, it wasn't often that your next assignment was interrogating a well known war hero.

Commander Shepard was infamous among his people. There were a lot of stories about her, but the most memorable one for him was back when he was a C-Sec Officer in the Investigation Division at the Citadel. She was an unknown then. A nobody. The Skyllian Blitz would change everything.

He had been sitting at his desk filing paperwork, when the video displays scattered around the office suddenly all started displaying the news. It was breaking news; the turians had decided to attack a small human base in Elysium in an attempt disperse the Alliance's strength.

The news anchor gave a quick introduction, then the video quickly shifted to live footage of the fight. The video drone recording the footage somehow dodged stray bullets as it captured the action on the ground. A squad of eight turians was converging on a makeshift barricade of concrete rubble and upturned vehicles.

The video drone zoomed over to the other side of the barricade, where Shepard had taken cover, her fallen team-mates scattered around her. The first thing Garrus noticed was the Punisher sniper strapped to her back, useless in close-quarter combat. But before he could mentally comment about that, she fizzled out of view.

A Tactical Coat. Apparently this version of the coat was a bit low-tech and worked primarily on organics; he could sometimes see the outline of her form on the video. The video drone mostly stayed put in between the human and the turians, focusing mostly on the turians. It seemed that, although it would catch the silhouette of the human female, it hardly focused on her. It was as if it couldn't see her at all.

_Someone needs to calibrate that thing._

Shepard quickly left the barricade for a ruined building nearby, making her way to a second floor window. Back in the C-Sec office, Garrus' brain registered a couple of officers yelling at the turian squad. "Idiots, she's right there!" It was all background noise to him. His attention was focused on the human positioning her rifle at the window ledge.

Meanwhile, the squad had then realized that she was no longer behind the barricade, moving in to search for her.

But it was too late. She shot one soldier down, took a breath and shot the other next to him, just as the squad realized she was on the second floor of the building. She had perfectly timed her shots so as not to overheat the rifle. _Damn, she's good._

After the second shot, she withdrew her rifle then lobbed a sticky grenade in one fluid motion. That took down two more and wounded another, leaving two to go after her. At this point, they realized that the video drone seemed to shift its gaze up the building. It started floating towards the back of the building, as if to follow Shepard's progress through the second floor, but still keeping a roughly equal distance between the two parties. The remaining squad members decided to use this to their advantage and waited for it to stop.

Eventually it did, and was shifting its camera between them and a window at the back of the building. They still couldn't see her, so they assumed she had either her Tactical Coat on again, or she was simply hiding. They tossed in a couple of grenades into the window and trained their assault rifles at the opening, in case she made an appearance.

A few seconds passed without anything happening. Everyone at the C-Sec office had held their breath, not knowing what was happening; the drone's view was obscured by the dust could from the blast. They could hear firefights in the distance, but nothing more.

When the dust cleared, the drone focused on the turians. One kept his assault rifle pointed at the window, while the other scanned their surroundings. They did not notice a figure quietly vaulting over some rubble behind them. This was Garrus' first time watching a human female in action, and this close. He wondered if they were all like that. Graceful and deadly. Shepard must have distracted the video drone somehow, Garrus mused. That or she hacked the thing.

He had stared transfixed in morbid fascination as she smashed an elbow into one soldier's lower back then flipped him over, planting a boot on his back while raising her a hand to shot the other through his helmet visor with a heavy pistol as he turned to face her. It was like a dance.

She swung her arm down to the turian who was face down into the dirt. "This is for my team," she whispered harshly and shot him.

The video ended and an anchor came into view, recounting the events that just took place and other news from the battle in Elysium. Meanwhile, the entire office had gone dead quiet. Garrus shook his head to dispel his shock and stared up at the female human whose image was frozen on the upper right corner of the screen while the news anchor droned on. He realized that despite her being that—a human—he could not help but respect her courage, determination and tenacity. Oh, and her sniping skills.

She had stood her ground, fighting to the last. Heck, she would probably have made a great turian.

Shepard was the catalyst, the last push he needed.

The very same day, he finally decided to return to the military. He had been putting it off for a while now. The turians had been sure of a swift victory after the Relay 314 Incident. Nearly a decade later and everyone was still waiting. His people were still confident; Reserves were not yet being called to active duty. Nevertheless, he decided that he no longer belonged in the false peace of the Citadel.

He did not care for the war. Personally, Garrus thought that the war made no sense whatsoever. Simply putting yourself in the humans' shoes would show you that the only reason why they activated the mass relays was because they had not known any better.

Not that the other side was entirely innocent either. He may fancy himself as a bad turian, but he was still one in the end—A turian. And these were his people being killed. He had to do _something_.

After reviewing his application, it was decided that his skills would be best served in interrogating prisoners of war. With his C-Sec background, his attention to detail, his knack of reading people, and ability to quickly analyze data and come up with a solution made him invaluable. He had been instrumental in averting a number of attacks by the humans. In the meantime, Shepard had been unwittingly building up her legend, popping up in the news every so often, being one of the few humans known by name.

Seven years after the Skyllian Blitz, here he was, about to meet the great Commander Shepard. Garrus wondered if she would live up to the legend. His fingers paused over the holographic keys. That was the reason for his anxiety: he hardly knew anything about the Commander. Sure, there were hundreds of reports and thousands of stories, but which of those shed a light on the _real_ Shepard?

He tapped a finger against the edge of the console, his programs forgotten. He needed to know more about the commander if he wanted to effectively glean information from her. He formulated a rough plan of attack in his head. Structured, but flexible enough to deal with just about anything she might throw at him.

Satisfied, he returned to editing his code. Replace this loop with a recursive function, convert this local variable to a global one, and save. Compile. He adjusted his focus to check the current time. General Victus should be arriving soon with Shepard.

He couldn't wait to get started.


	3. Chapter 3

Getting back into the rhythm of programming was easy now. Lost in the new code he was working on, he almost did not notice the door whoosh open behind him.

"Calibrations again, Vakarian? Don't you trust the engineers to do their job?" Garrus could almost hear the sneer in the question, though he knew his friend just enjoyed teasing him. It was Lantar's favorite pastime.

"Don't you have prisoners to interrogate, Sidonis?" Garrus replied, not looking up from the console. He was currently running a diagnostic on the completed algorithms. _Almost done…_

"You mean your refuses? So I get the riff-raff, while you get _the_ Commander Shepard?" Lantar cross his arms and leaned against the doorframe, a hint of humor in his tone. "You never let me have any fun."

"Not having fun with the krogan?" They had recently captured a krogan mercenary. Why a Krogan Battlemaster like Urdnot Wrex pit himself with the humans didn't require any stretch of the imagination. The animosity between the krogans and turians hasn't disappeared over the centuries. That has been a relatively new tactic of some Alliance splinter groups: hire mercs. Although some of the higher ups think it's most likely a black-ops group. There have been whispers of a group called the Corsairs.

"He's just hired help," Lantar threw back, with mock exasperation. "The best I can probably get from him is the most common location for the mess hall on a human ship."

His train of thought now completely derailed, Garrus closed the program, dismissed the terminal and locked the console. "Maybe if you keep whining, I'll let you in some of the sessions." He turned and leaned back against its cool metal surface, a smirk on his face.

"Ass."

"Actually, I was thinking you could have a go at questioning the Commander first." Lantar gave him a skeptical look. Garrus frowned slightly, continuing, "There isn't much we know about her. You know how I work."

"Fine," Lantar relented, pushing himself off the doorframe. "So I guess you won't be sharing what you're planning either?"

Garrus nodded, the smirk back on his face. "Works better that way." That caused a grumble from the other turian.

A soft beep sounded off the centralized speakers, before a voice came on. "Officer Vakarian, the General would like to speak with you." Although technically a Captain, Garrus currently had no ship of his own after being assigned as the Lead Interrogation Officer, and was only onboard the _Resilience_ for Shepard. There couldn't be two captains and so, as stated by protocol, he was addressed as Intelligence Officer. Another turian was in his place might have taken offense, but it didn't bother Garrus. He was just here to do his job.

At least everyone onboard saluted him. "Patch him through."

Static, followed by General Victus' voice. "Vakarian."

Both Garrus and Lantar stood straight, even if there was no video feed. "Sir."

"We're close to the _Resilience_. ETA 3 minutes."

"We're ready sir."

"Good. I know you have your methods, Vakarian. Anything you need done?" Garrus enjoyed working with General Victus; no-nonsense and always straight to the point. "I do have one request, sir. I'd like Lieutenant Cartus to take the prisoner to her temporary holding cell."

"Cartus?" Slight surprise with a tinge of worry laced the name. "Are you sure, Vakarian?"

Lieutentant Athixa Cartus was an old acquaintance. They had served on a ship together during his military years prior to C-Sec. She was a spitfire, always causing him trouble. It was no wonder they were always at each other's throats. He hadn't seen her since, but he did hear she was a part of the team Victus put together to capture Shepard.

Garrus successfully ignored Lantar's raised brow ridge. "Yes sir."

A pause. "You know best." The line went dead.

"So… Athixa?" Garrus wondered how long it would take Lantar to start teasing him. He sighed. Lantar got the hint. What happened between the two wasn't unusual, but it was something new to tease Garrus about. Maybe later. "You know that she hates humans, right?"

Garrus chuckled. "I do." Garrus knew that Lantar would eventually figure out where he was going with all this. He just liked toying with the guy. Their banter was just one of the little ways they had to lighten the mood once in a while. The war had easily sucked the joy out of most things, leaving you empty and desolate. They had both seen that darkness in people they knew.

"You win," Lantar said, raising his hands as he turned to leave. "I'll see you at the shuttle bay."

Garrus stared at the door after it had slid shut, his eyes unfocused, and his thoughts far away. He was glad that Lantar decided to join his team. They had gotten along quickly at the beginning. Lantar would always lightheartedly tease or joke about everything, and Garrus would always reply sarcastically. That was their way.

They won't let the darkness take them too.


	4. Chapter 4

Shepard had never encountered a problem that couldn't be solved with bullets. Just give her a gun and a target. Point and shoot. Simple—like breathing.

The shuttle swayed slightly as it floated down to dock, its passengers swaying along with it. This? This she couldn't solve with a gun, at least, not yet. It was completely new territory for her. Sure, every Alliance marine had interrogation resistance training, but that was against methods that _humans_ employed. She had no clue if the turians used any unique techniques; the Alliance had yet to recover any POW from the turians.

Her current situation would have completely unnerved anyone else, but Shepard was made of tougher stuff. _Yep, keep telling yourself that_. She shook her head to dispel the thought. At the very least, she was anxious. She had absolutely no control of the situation, and was going in blind. She had always been the type to prepare for everything, but at the same time, acknowledged that even the best plans go awry. She sighed softly as she watched the turians gather their gear. They all turned to the shuttle door as it slid open, then quickly made their way out, with one staying behind to guard Shepard.

There was no way to plan for something like this. She looked down at her hands, clenching them into fists, releasing them, and clenching again. Everything she knew about turians only helped her fight them, and defend herself physically. Emotionally and psychologically? All she could do was hope that the ruthlessness turians displayed on the battlefield did not translate to the interrogation room.

_Or the torture chamber_, she thought wryly, immediately scoffing at herself for making a bleak situation even more hopeless.

She didn't bother looking up when her guard moved to stand before her. He mumbled something in his language and bent down to tap her cuff. A short series of beeps followed from his omnitool and suddenly her ankles were no longer magnetically drawn to each other. She experimentally moved her right ankle away from her left, trying not to entertain the crazy idea of taking this opportunity to escape. She tried to stand up, but was stopped by a firm hand on her shoulder.

Shepard sat back down and stared out the door, trying to ignore the voice in hear head screaming at her to tackle the soldier, grab the his assault rifle, or even his pistol, shoot him, and commandeer the shuttle. She sighed. There wouldn't be any point, really. Maybe she'd make it out, but she'd only be shot down in seconds.

That and she had no idea how to pilot a turian shuttle.

Deciding to distract herself instead, she let her gaze wander out the door. It eventually fell on the turian who had spoken to her earlier. All the salutes he received confirmed her earlier suspicion: he was a high-ranking officer. More soldiers piled out from the other shuttles, the bay soon teeming with turians with their gear. The officer took one soldier who had just hopped off a shuttle to the side. A female.

It looked like the officer was giving her orders. Orders she apparently didn't agree with. Their conversation soon erupted into an argument of harsh whispers, so as not to attract attention to themselves. However, the officer soon ended it by barking out a word, causing the female to snap her mouth shut, her mandibles irregularly fluttering in irritation. She grunted out what looked like an acknowledgement, saluted, and started walking away…

…towards Shepard.

* * *

_Uh oh_. The female turian stalked towards the shuttle, her golden eyes blazing in anger. She nimbly hopped into the shuttle and dismissed the lone guard. She then growled a string of words which, to Shepard, sounded like it was riddled with expletives and curses. Shepard was about to mention that she didn't have a translation implant—she may not understand her captors, but they could probably understand her—when the female ended her tirade with a word Shepard did understand: _pyjack_.

Had she been anywhere else, Shepard would have simply burst out laughing at the insult often used on humans. Instead, her face scrunched up in an attempt to stifle her chuckle, which immediately offended her new guard. She hissed and grabbed Shepard by the hair, jerking her up to her feet. Mirth forgotten, Shepard glared up at the turian who towered over her, their faces close to each other's.

"I don't have a translation implant," Shepard said through grit teeth, trying to adjust her position to lessen the pull on her hair. It was difficult though, since the turian stood around five inches taller.

The turian blinked in momentary confusion, but quickly resumed her glaring and snapped a word out, simultaneously using her grip on Shepard so shove her out the shuttle. Shepard quickly shot her cuffed hands out to direct her fall. She bent her elbows and tucked her shoulder in, then rolled to lessen the impact as she landed on the floor. Her female guard wasted no time dropping next to her to pick her up by her hair again. Shepard yelped at the sharp pain to her scalp and quickly rose to her feet, favoring her left, since the right was sprained.

With a firm grip at the back of Shepard's head, the female guard led the way towards the inside of the ship, to where a pair of doors waited. After a few steps, she roughly shoved Shepard forward. Shepard turned around to shoot a glare, but started limping forward after receiving a prod from her guard's riffle muzzle. The guard followed with the rifle trained at Shepard's back.

Shepard tried not to think about how her current treatment could be a foreshadowing of her incarceration and instead, diverted her attention to observing her surroundings. She knew nothing about the interiors of turian ships, and guessed that the double doors they were headed to was for an elevator. Glancing around, she noted the difference in turian design. Just like the outside of their ships, the interior was composed of sharp and angular shapes. Where human designs consisted of a mix of curves and straight lines, turian design seemed to be all… pointy.

She had guessed correctly. When they reached the doors, her female guard lowered her rifle to press a button on the side to call down the elevator. Shepard awkwardly stood with her weight mostly on her left foot, occasionally lifting her right to lessen the stress on it. She took one last look around her while waiting for the elevator car.

She stopped when she found herself looking straight into a pair of piercing blue eyes.

Shepard blinked to refocus her eyes, staring back at a tall turian male. He stood apart from the soldiers, leaning against a stack of containers, his arms crossed. The containers cast a shadow on him, emphasizing the glow of the visor over his left eye. He was dressed in light armor; he wasn't in the team that took hers down.

She continued to study him, noting how he held himself up with authority, his eyes cool and calculating. A junior to mid-level officer maybe, and he's definitely seen his share of fights. _Wait, that's unusual_, Shepard thought. The colony markings on his grey carapace were blue. Most turians had white markings. Was the difference in color significant?

A sudden movement, a twitch in his mandibles, startled Shepard from her observations. His mouth was slightly parted, his sharp teeth in display. Was it a smile? A smirk? Was he… amused? She didn't have enough interactions with turians to understand the little nuances in their facial expressions. Whatever his look meant, Shepard took his unwavering gaze as a challenge.

Not backing down, she stared back, and they continued to do so until the elevator door parted and Shepard's guard shoved her in.


	5. Chapter 5

Garrus was not amused. In fact, he was a bit apprehensive, his mandible occasionally twitching. Had he underestimated Athixa's antagonism towards humans? He frowned, walking up to the elevator and lifted a hand to press the up button, but paused right before hitting it.

There really wasn't any need to rush after them. Athixa might be rough with her handling of Shepard, but she knew the rules. She wouldn't actually _maim _the human. By then a small group of soldiers had gathered around him, waiting for the elevator car after one stepped up to push the up button. Garrus turned and joined another group that had elected to take the stairs.

He made his way to the stairs, his mind wandering to the staring contest he just had with the human. Although she had been impressive in the news feed, it could never do justice to the real thing. There was this irrepressible, indescribably energy that emanated from her. It was in the way she way she walked, the way she moved, despite her injured ankle. Though shackled and surrounded by the enemy, her presence was still commanding.

She had caught him watching, her steely gaze taunting him. _Just try and break me_. At least, that's what it said to him. He chuckled. _Challenge accepted, Shepard_. Though he did prefer to bend rather than break.

Garrus approached one of the four cargo rooms. This one had been modified to contain a bank of terminals for the interrogation team to collect, process, and analyze data gathered from prisoners. It was also where they temporarily housed their captives. Two large metal cargo containers sat against the far wall. Right now they were both empty, but otherwise, were used as makeshift prison cells.

A dull _thunk_ resounded as he stepped in. He looked around for the source and found Athixa with her hand wrapped around Shepard's neck, the human's head pressed against one of the converted metal containers. The human had her cuffed hands wrapped on the turian's wrist, attempting to alleviate the pressure on her neck. Suddenly, Athixa spun shepard, planting her cheek against the cold metal surface of the nearest container. She pressed her forearm across Shepard's back, pinning the human.

Garrus coughed into his fist and cleared his throat. Athixa turned her head and growled softly, pulling Shepard off the container and shoving her inside it. The door slid shut as Garrus walked up to stand next to her.

"Was that _really_ necessary?" Garrus drawled. He was only slightly teasing.

"Just wanted to rough her up, show her who's in charge". Fear and control was the established approach to prisoners. Garrus, however, had his own methods. Being rough with prisoners was a norm, but a part of him believed that it was counterintuitive. The need to survive was one of the few things all life forms in shared. It was only natural to defend oneself when threatened. Some would flee, others would hide, and then there were those that fought back. Either way, if he wanted answers, what Garrus needed from Shepard was cooperation.

Fortunately, he was the lead interrogator, so it was his rules, his way.

True, he did want to confuse the human. That was the only reason why Athixa didn't get her turn being shoved against the cargo container. Violence was often the best way to get a message across to her. Sometimes he wondered how she could be an effective recon scout with that fiery temper of hers. Then again, maybe it was because of the nature of her work that she needed to vent when not in the field. Nevertheless, this was going to be her last interaction with Shepard.

Athixa gave him a sidelong glare. "Wouldn't it be simpler to just kill her? You know she won't give anything up voluntarily."

"I appreciate your confidence in my interrogation skills."

She shook her head in mock exasperation. "Would _you_ give up Hierarchy information if you were in her place?"

He took that as a rhetorical question. "There are ways of getting answers from someone without them explicitly saying anything." It sometimes wasn't even what prisoners said. Sometimes it's how they say it, what they omit, or how they fed a lie. It was body language, it was things that they voluntarily give up, thinking it was unimportant, or what the interrogator wanted to hear. Often, it was their silence.

Just like how the silence between them spoke volumes. Although they had been intimate once—if you could call their "spar" in the bedroom intimate—no one would consider them close. It had been casual, and neither thought anything of it. No turian would. They hadn't kept in touch after that, only finally seeing each other again at the start of the mission. So what do you say to someone you've exchanged jabs, kicks and grapples on the mat and in bed, but hardly any words?

"How about a round of sparring?" Apparently Athixa's answer was to stick to the familiar.

"Maybe later." _No_.

Taking the hint, Athixa promptly turned and left the room, leaving Garrus alone to his thoughts. Once he heard the door slide shut, he headed to the nearest terminal. The display came to life, showing Shepard moving around the storage container. He knew she could barely see inside. The containers had no built-in lighting, and the only illumination came from light that seeped in through holes drilled at the top of one side.

She settled herself in a corner, bringing her knees up to her chest and resting her forehead on top. If he were in her place, he'd be doing the same, taking advantage of this time to rest and gather herself. Of course, he wouldn't really know what was going on in her head, but if he had to guess, she was probably trying to calm the storm of thoughts in her head. So much had happened to her in just a few hours. She was defeated, her team was lost, and she a captive. Then she got a taste of what her treatment by enemy hands would be like.

The silence must be excruciating. When voices raged in your head, all clamoring for attention, silence always amplified it. Without any outside source to block the pounding in your head, you had no choice but to listen. _Why did this happen? How did I end up here? Did the rest of my team escape? Are they alive? What's going to happen next? Why didn't I just grab that rifle and flee? I could have taken a few of them down too. Will I ever go back home?_

From the slow deep breaths Shepard was taking, he knew he was right. Adrenaline must still be pumping through her with nowhere to go, since she had kept resisting the urge to escape. Again, he couldn't be completely sure about that, but every time Athixa shoved her or grabbed her hair, he could see the tension in her shoulders as she prepared for a swing or a kick. They never came.

_Smart_, he thought. There really wasn't any point in fighting back. Best to conserve energy for what may lie ahead.

He turned to the sound of the cargo room's doors opening. Lantar stepped in and looked around, easily spotting Garrus at the terminal. "So, is Shepard missing any limbs?"

Garrus chuckled lightly. "No, Athixa was able to control herself."

"No wonder she looks like she's about to explode," Lantar said as he leaned against the console next to Garrus'. He paused for a few seconds, before continuing, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Do you think they'll let me bet on a tie?"

Garrus didn't want to rise to the bait, but he knew Lantar would never drop it. "Maybe you should offer to spar with her. Then maybe I can win some spare credits when she wins."

"Oww," Lantar said with feigned hurt.

Garrus smirked. Then he said, to change the subject, "When we arrive at the base, I'll take her to the cells."

Lantar sighed then nodded. There was no winning with Garrus. "Should I get in there and start the preliminary questioning?" He asked with a jerk of his thumb towards the container with Shepard in it.

"Later. I want her to stew for a while."

Sometimes, imaginations were far crueler than reality.


	6. Chapter 6

Shepard groped her way in the semi-darkness to a corner of her cell. Reaching the far end, she leaned against the wall and slid down onto the ground. She drew her knees to her chest, rested her head on top and started taking long, deep breaths.

Though she looked calm, a storm of thoughts raged in her head. Memories on constant playback: regrets, wishes, questions, and more questions. Always, the questions. Where had she gone wrong? Could it have gone differently? Was her team able to escape? Are they alive? Will she ever get out of here? Should she have tried to escape? Would it have been worth it to take down a few turians before going out in a blaze of glory in a shuttle she couldn't even pilot?

She sighed, and leaned her head back against the cool metal wall behind her. There was no way to quell the stream of thoughts. _What was that turian with the blue colony markings thinking?_

Hmm. Strange question.

She sighed. Why was she even thinking about him, the enemy? _Better than wallowing in despair, I suppose_. If her treatment by the female guard indicated anything, it was going to be rough going from here on out. Answering one of the questions, maybe she should have taken a swing or kick at the female; show her captors that no one messes with Shepard. She glared at the wall opposite her.

She will not be brought down, she will not be broken. Next time she gets the opportunity, she'll take it.

The storm suddenly died as a beep sounded outside. She tilted her head towards the light as it flooded in. There was a turian standing against the light, but all she could see was his—the crest of horns gave it away—outline. Her eyes adjusted to the light and his features slowly came into focus.

It was the turian with the blue markings. Her overclocked brain failed to comprehend the coincidence; she was just too exhausted at this point to consider what it meant. He walked over to her and grasped her arm to bring her up to stand. Was it just her, or did he have a_swagger_? She shook her head in disbelief, scoffing at herself. Of all the things to notice. At this rate, they might as well throw her into the loony bin.

_Pff, swagger._

When she finally got up on her feet, she slightly bent her knees to prepare for the inevitable shove. Now was not that time to retaliate yet. Her sprained ankle and her cuffed wrists still put her at a huge disadvantage. Even if she wasn't cuffed and injured, she had no illusions that she could take on a full grown male turian, especially when he had armor and a gun. She had once gone up against one and gone home with some souvenirs consisting of a black eye, a couple of broken ribs and bruises everywhere.

She felt a hand come up to her shoulder and braced for impact, but to her surprise, all she got was a soft push. _Wait, what's going on?_ She stepped out of the container hesitantly, the turian following close behind. He nudged her with a finger toward the room's door. She complied and stepped out when the door slid open.

They entered the elevator that she had just earlier been roughly shoved into by the female turian. How long ago was that? A couple of hours or longer? She had no idea how long she was in the container, though based on her grumbling stomach, it was a day at most.

Shepard felt disorientated from a mix of the events of her capture: her hunger and exhaustion, her treatment under the female turian, the hours she spent in the dark with only the voices in her head, but mostly from the sudden difference in treatment. For a split second, part of her mind considered that what happened before the container might have been just a nightmare. This war wasn't real, she wasn't a prisoner and the turian behind her wasn't her enemy.

She needed to sleep.

It was a stark contrast, his indifferent gentleness to her blatant aggression. He didn't even have a weapon pointed at her back, though he had a pistol strapped to his side. Somehow, this made her uneasy. She understood and expected force from the enemy. But _this? _What's next, a pat on the head?

There were three possibilities: the female's actions were unusual, the male's actions were, or this was just a way to confuse her. She snorted in derision. It didn't really matter either way. They needed to do better that, though she grudgingly admitted that it did throw her off.

The elevator descended in silence. The female had spent the short ride muttering angrily and poking her every so often with the rifle, whereas Shepard could almost forget that the male was behind her. The silence was cut short when the elevator doors opened to let in a flurry of sounds from the turians preparing to disembark.

Shepard stepped outside, followed by her guard. She started to walk to the exit where the turians were making their way out, but was stopped by a firm hand on her shoulder. A dark hood was slowly placed over her head, reducing visibility to zero. She flinched when the turian's hand nudged her forward. She took a step forward and limped along slowly. At least this way, if she walked into something, it wouldn't be _too_ painful.

Her worries were unfounded though, because every so often, a hand would come up to her shoulder to stop or steer her. She really didn't know what to think of this turian. If she had been in the hands of the female at this point, Shepard would now have added stubbed toes and a bruised nose or forehead to her injuries. Once in a while, the hand would wrap around her arm to control her more, especially when she had to step down or up or ascend some stairs.

They continued this way until he suddenly stopped her. A few beeps sounded off from behind her, probably from his omni tool and she felt a soft whoosh of air from what she guessed was a door sliding open in front of her. The turian lead her in and sat her on a chair, leaving the hood over her head. Another series of beeps sounded and the cuffs on her wrists separated from each other, while her ankles' cuffs attached themselves to the front legs of the chair. He quickly took her wrists in his hands and snapped them together behind the chair's back.

His hands withdrew and moments later the door slid open, then shut, leaving Shepard in the dark again.

_Now what?_


	7. Chapter 7

The chair's back was digging into her arms. Shepard tried to shift her position to alleviate the pressure, but with her ankles cuffed to the chair, there wasn't enough room to move. She winced when her limbs started to go numb. She sighed. Soon, the pinpricks will start and she wouldn't be able to massage or stomp it away.

She cringed as it finally started. The pain sporadically shot up her arms and legs, and there was nothing she could do about it. She bit her lip in frustration. It wasn't as painful as a gunshot, a knife cut, or broken bones, but it was extremely annoying.

Shepard tried to focus her mind elsewhere to ignore the pain. Why was she here? Every now and then she questioned herself why she fought. Simply put, the Alliance was her family. She was born and raised on the various ships her parents served. She knew nothing else. This war put her family in danger and she had to fight to protect it. However, she didn't believe in the reason for the war. Technically, the humans did break the law, and if she looked at it from the perspective of the turians, she somewhat understood their reaction, even if it was extreme.

It was almost like saying you didn't know there was a law against a crime you just committed. Well, there was really no way for her kind to have known that starting up and using a Mass Relay was illegal, but all this bloodshed could have been prevented if they had just laid down arms and _talked_. It didn't help that the turians' reaction was shoot first, ask questions later, but it's been years since the start of the First Contact War. Neither did it help that both sides were stubborn mules.

Personally, Shepard was tired of the war.

She sighed in relief as the pain stopped. Despite her uncomfortable position, she could take this opportunity to catch some shut eye. Although, she didn't relish the thought of her nightmares coming back, ever since that mission in—

A door slid open somewhere to her right, followed by footsteps that approached her. The hood over her head was lifted off. She blinked and cringed as she adjusted to the light. Finally being able to focus, she looked up to the face of another male turian. He also had blue markings, though only on his mandibles, and they were a different shade.

Shepard looked around her. She was in a typical interrogation room, with a couple of cameras pointing at her, and a two way mirror across her. There was a simple metal table in front of her and another chair. The turian took the chair and sat across her. He didn't say anything and just stared at her. Not knowing what else to do, she stared back. He tilted his head and one of his mandibles twitched. She wondered what that meant.

Another minute passed before he mumbled something and looked down to tap some commands into his omni-tool. He looked up and started speaking. She frowned and was about to tell him that she didn't have a translation implant (don't these people communicate?), when a voice came out from somewhere above her.

"Commander Shepard, my name is Lantar Sidonis, and I'll be conducting this interview."

"You mean interrogation."

Unlike the translation of his words, hers was instantaneous because he immediately chuckled. "No, I really meant interview. There will be an interrogation, just not now."

Shepard grunted in reply. No translation required.

"Name and rank."

Just as she was trained, she gave her full name and rank, and then threw in her birth date, identification number. Was the Geneva Convention even relevant here? She did hope though that the turians had some equivalent that they followed. Either way, giving her personal information meant nothing.

He paused and blinked. _Did she say something funny?_ It was probably nothing though, since he continued with a question. "How many were there in the team you sent to infiltrate the outpost?"

"Four, including myself." The faces of her team flashed in her mind. "What happened to Jenkins' body? What happened to the others?"

Lantar quirked an eyebrow plate. "I thought I was asking the questions." Shepard just glared at him. Assuming she was referring to her felled teammate, "We buried him on the spot. The others escaped for all I know. They'd better have some sort of survival gear. Nothing there is edible for humans."

They did. She just hoped it would last them till rescue arrives. Now that she thought about it, she never stuck around to see how her people treated the fallen enemy. All she could do was hope they were treated with the same respect, assuming that this turian was being truthful.

After a pause, "What were you hoping to accomplish in this mission?"

"Why ask questions which you already know the answers to?"

Lantar shrugged. "Consider this a getting to know you session."

"You haven't really asked any questions about me really."

"Patience, Shepard. We'll get to that later," he replied with a tilt of his head. He got up and stood behind her. He tapped her cuffs, and a now familiar set of beeps sounded off from his omni-tool. Her wrists were still cuffed, but free from each other again. She rubbed her numb arms and legs, which were also released from the chair.

Shepard sat back down and glared at him. "Data. Anything we could get our hands on. Maybe communication protocols and encryption keys. If not, equipment or code to reverse engineer."

"That makes sense," Lantar said, nodding. "If you were able to retrieve something, what would you have done with it?"

Shepard raised an eyebrow. This was getting ridiculous. She didn't need to answer the questions for them to know what she'd do. If there was a point to all this, she couldn't figure out what it was. "Uh… I'd give it to my superiors or have some analysts figure it out first."

"If it was ridiculously simple, like a substitution cipher, or you had an analyst at hand and he or she figured it out, what would you do?"

"That doesn't change anything."

"If the information you retrieved could end the war, but you have to act on it immediately, would you? Say you require clearance, but that would take too long. Would you go ahead without it or wait and hope there's enough time… assuming you even get clearance."

"This war needs to end," Shepard answered. It was almost a whisper.

Lantar nodded. He opened his mouth to ask the next question, but paused. He tilted his head to the side, as if listening. _Someone behind the two-way mirror? _He nodded again and looked back at Shepard. "You rose up the ranks quickly after you enlisted. Why haven't you been promoted past Lieutenant-Commander?"

The sudden change in topic threw Shepard off. She blinked away her confusion and considered the question. It never really bothered Shepard that she was… stuck as a Lieutenant-Commander. What did was when someone would ask her about it, especially when the focus was on rank, insinuating that she was somehow… defective. "Rank isn't as important as what you did with it."

Lantar was about to ask a follow up question, but whoever was speaking into his ear must have told him to move on. Besides, Shepard looked like she didn't want to continue with this line of questioning. "Going back to the outpost, how did the Alliance learn of its existence and location?"

There was no harm in telling him the truth. "We did our own… interviewing."

"I see," Lantar said, followed by a short cough. He leaned forward with his elbows on the table. Shepard noted a slight change in his demeanor, though she couldn't quite name it. "So, how about sharing your communication protocols with us?"

"They change the key at irregular intervals. I couldn't tell you how to crack our encryption even if I wanted to." Her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to figure out the change. That tone and body language…_ Was he… _"Which I don't, by the way."

"True," Lantar said as he got up. "So, I was thinking, what would you say to a drink after this is all over?"

Shepard stared at him, dumfounded. _…flirting?_

Her expression must have really been hilarious because her interrogator was doubling up in laughter, the flanging in his voice amplifying the sound. Lantar straightened up and moved to leave.

Shepard regained her composure and got up as he headed for the door. "Why even hold me prisoner? I don't know anything."

Lantar paused right before the door. It sensed his presence and slid open.

"I'm just a soldier."

He turned to answer, and that was when she punched him.


	8. Chapter 8

His plan paid off. She was definitely thrown off by the sudden change in her treatment. Garrus found that prisoners tended to focus on whatever caused their confusion, despite themselves. Their defenses would be lowered, causing them to be more susceptible to questioning.

With weaker-willed prisoners, all it took was a barrage of questions for them to break down. Not being able to keep up with the questions, prisoners would inadvertently give up the truth because they didn't have enough time to come up with believable lies, or to keep them consistent. He didn't think that this approach would work on Shepard, but he wanted to see her reaction anyway.

She had flinched when he raised his hand earlier to guide her. It was almost imperceptible, but that's when he confirmed that she had been expecting more of the same treatment. Did she think that all turians were like Athixa? While his kind _are_ ruthless warriors, they have hearts under their tough hides. He knew that the squishy humans were tougher than they looked. How were _they_ treating their turian prisoners? From the little he knew of human history, prisoners of war were, in general, not treated very well. A small part of him wondered if that was overcompensation for their, hmm, squishyness.

Another part of him was conflicted in thanking or cursing the Spirits for the difference in the two species' chirality. On one hand, it would be difficult to feed and care for prisoners. On the other… He didn't want to think of the other. No matter the species, there will always be the depraved few. He had heard of the horror stories of abuse. Psychological. Physical. Sexual.

Personally, he'd rather starve.

He shook his head to rid himself of his dark thoughts. Lantar was about to start the preliminary questioning. Garrus had given Lantar a rough guideline, but trusted him to do the rest.

"_Name and rank_."

Lantar had paused and blinked at Shepard's answer. Garrus was slightly surprised as well. At first, most on his side believed, from her reputation and leadership skills, that she was at least a Major. When they learned that she was Commander, they had assumed it was Staff Commander. To Garrus, it didn't matter that she was a Lieutenant Commander. It was simply another piece of information he could use.

How he would use that information was another thing entirely. He didn't know what approach to use on Shepard yet. He had decided to leave the decision until the preliminary questioning. Money of course made no sense, and neither did religion. Pride? Love? Family? He knew that her only family also served in the Alliance, and it wouldn't have worked, because even if she did love her parents, they could perfectly handle themselves. It was not as if she had to provide and protect them. Then it clicked.

Her family was not only blood. Her family was the Alliance, _her team_. He could use that.

Now, what role should he play when he meets her? The dominant officer? The subordinate rookie? It looked like she didn't care about rank. She had been in the Alliance all her life, living in ships her parents served or as a soldier herself after enlisting at 18. She had risen fast to Commander, and somehow, got stuck there. Garrus could think of two possibilities. One, she had a problem with authority. Two, she simply preferred a rank that ensured field action. If she was anything like him, it was a combination of both.

"_Rank isn't as important as what you did with it."_

He agreed with her. Rank was to be respected, but the person holding it needed to earn it. He winced internally. That line of thinking had gotten him into a lot of trouble in the past. He had a tendency to shoot first and ask questions later. Red tape had merely been a suggestion to him.

However, the war had taught him to see things differently. He had always seen the world in black and white. It was simpler that way, especially during his time in C-Sec. Victims of circumstance, he could understand and forgive. They had no other choice but to commit a crime to survive, so he went easy on them. Then there was the other extreme. Those? Those he had no qualms roughing up, or putting bullets into their kneecaps. It was the same when he returned to the military, if not easier. Point. Shoot.

Garrus turned away from the two-way mirror and left the observation room to get a drink of water. He got what he came for. Lantar could do the rest. The hallway was empty, save for the water dispenser and a couple of benches. He took a disposable cup and filled it, then sat on the nearest bench.

He had started seeing the grays when he was assigned to the interrogation unit. To get reliable information out of the prisoners assigned to him, he had to really get into their heads and understand them. He had gotten to know their fears and dreams. If he met some of them in the battle field, he might just hesitate to shoot.

Sometimes he had the urge to lapse back into his brasher ways. It was easier not to think of them as people, but merely things that you extract information from.

He looked up when the door to the interrogation room slid open. Lantar stepped out, scratching a mandible, a bemused look on his face. Garrus was curious now. Maybe he shouldn't have left. Oh well, there was always the video recording.

"Something happen?"

Lantar lowered his hand, "Shepard took a swing at me."

Garrus choked back a laugh. "You probably deserved it."

"I think she was going for it no matter who it was in there. It looked like she was gearing up for it from the beginning."

"I bet you still deserved it." Garrus knew though that the punch was Shepard's way of showing that she wasn't one to be messed with. He already knew that, but he still had a job to do. It amused him, but also made him approve of her more.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up." Lantar sat down next to him. "I think she grazed me. Wanna calibrate those cuffs? She's pretty fast."

"Afraid of the big bad human?" Garrus teased, but nodded. It shouldn't take long anyway. "Is she alright though?"

"Yeah, I'm _so_ scared. Hold me?" Lantar replied, holding his arms out to Garrus, who swatted them away. He took a few moments to laugh, but continued, "She's ok, mostly surprised I think. It knocked her out though."

"Have the doc take a look at her," Garrus said, taking a gulp of his water.

Lantar looked up and down the hallway. "You can tell her yourself," he said softly, then loudly, "Hey doc!"

Garrus looked up as well to their resident human doctor. "Dr. T'Soni, here to check up on your experime— I mean, patient?"

A half-hearted glare from the asari was all he got in reply. Dr. Liara T'Soni was an archaeologist, an expert on Protheans. She had been researching them extensively, until the war hit. Suddenly, both funding and dig sites were short. Her backers decided to put their money into weapons development instead, cashing in on the war economy. Also, most of the larger newly discovered sites coincidentally fell inside human space. She realized that the only way to access those artifacts was to somehow join the turians.

So she went back to school and took up medicine. It didn't take her long; in a few years, she completed her studies and the required residency, and was quickly placed with Garrus' team to look after the human prisoners. They hardly knew anything about human physiology, but Liara was quick to learn and coming from a levo-amino acid-based environment helped too.

Garrus chuckled. "Could you take care of our guest? I have some reports to fill out."

Liara's half glare turned into a small smile. She nodded. "I would like your help moving her to her cell."

_Doesn't she have assistants for this? _"Alright, Liara," Garrus said as he rose from his seat. He entered the interrogation room where he found Shepard curled up on the floor, with her cuffs attached to each once more. He tapped a cuff and opened his omni-tool. After a few commands and adjustments, he was done. The cuffs should react faster next time. He switched his omni-tool off and placed his hands under Shepard, and easily lifted her as he stood up.

"Lead the way, Liara," he said as he stepped into the hallway with Shepard in his arms. He looked down at her as they made their way down the hallway. She looked tired, but oddly content, making him wonder how long it's been since she last had a good night's rest.

"_This war needs to end."_

He agreed, and hoped that they would all get to sleep without the burden of their duties soon.


	9. Chapter 9

Shepard blinked her bleary eyes as she woke up. She slowly sat up, rubbing her eyes, then looked around. The room, her cell, she assumed, was small. She frowned. However, it was larger than any room she'd ever slept in.

Her bed was pressed against one wall, with a small side table next to it. It had a glowing holographic clock on top. On the opposite wall were a small desk and a chair. On the desk was a pitcher of water a couple of glasses on one end, and a small lamp on the other. The lamp was the only source of light, casting a soft glow.

A throbbing suddenly started on the side of her head. She rubbed it as she got up to drink, her mind wandering back to how she got the bruise on her head in the first place.

_She drew her right hand back and released it to punch Lantar. A split second after she did, however, it swung down to her left, which was pressed on her side. The momentum caused her to twist to the left. Her ankle cuffs snapped back together, causing her to stumble and fall onto the ground on her right shoulder, her breath knocked out from her._

_She only had time for a quick surprised "_WHAT?"_, before a wave of electricity washed over her, knocking her out cold._

She remembered coming to for a few seconds, curled up on the floor, with someone kneeling next to her. She had slowly cracked an eye open to take a look. It was Blue (not a creative nickname, but it'll do). He was typing something on his omni-tool. It was all her body could take as she slowly succumbed to unconsciousness as he took her into his arms.

Despite her throbbing head, she's never felt so refreshed after sleeping. It's been a long time since she last slept more than two to four hours. She frowned. As much as she wanted to deny it, she had felt _safe_ in his arms. She climbed back into bed and curled up under the sheets, refusing to think about it, and promptly fell asleep.

* * *

When she woke up again, an asari was sitting next to her. She was focused on a datapad and did not notice that Shepard had woken up. What was an asari doing here? Wasn't their official stance on the war neutral?

"Ah, Commander Shepard," the asari said as she turned to face Shepard. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," Shepard replied with a dismissive wave. Like in the interrogation room, the asari's words were being translated through built-in speakers. She sat up and turned towards the asari, who nodded and continued. "Dr. Liara T'Soni. I'm in charge of the health and wellbeing of the human prisoners in this base."

That surprised Shepard. Did the Alliance have an equivalent for their turian prisoners? She had no idea what happened to the prisoners she captured. She had asked a couple of times, but no one would answer her. A part of her was suddenly guilty for not pushing for one. She had heard rumors of torture, but fervently hoped that they were just that, rumors, and that her kind have moved on from that method of interrogation.

"How are you feeling, Shepard?" Liara asked as she scanned Shepard with her omni-tool. Shepard rubbed her head and answered. "I'm fine, mostly. Just some throbbing here."

Liara nodded. "The cuffs have a safety mechanism that triggers if you attack someone while in turian custody." She paused and smiled, with a tilt of her head. "I heard that you grazed Lantar though."

"Hmph."

Liara chuckled and continued. "Whoever initially attached your cuffs clearly underestimated you. Lead Interrogation Officer Vakarian adjusted it to account for your speed. He also disabled the electroshock feature."

_So that's Blue's name. Vakarian. First name or surname…?_

"Do you have any questions?" Liara asked as she stood up.

Curiosity sometimes got the better of Shepard. "Are all the cells here like mine?"

"Yes. We make sure that our charges are comfortable." Liara replied with a nod. Shepard looked down, again wondering what the conditions were in the Alliance prison camps.

She tilted her head to give Liara a sidelong glance. "Or maybe we're just being softened up."

Liara blinked then gave Shepard a small shrug. "That is possible as well."

The doctor moved towards the door. "If that is all, Shepard, I will be going now. If you have any questions or concerns, just push this button over here," she said, pointing to a panel next to the door.

Still exhausted, Shepard lied back down. Sleep quickly took over her and she drifts off, dreaming of strong arms and piercing blue eyes.


	10. Chapter 10

The surveillance room housed a dozen monitors, mounted in a grid along one wall. In the middle of the room were two rows of terminals where analysts parsed and collected data. Garrus stood before the bank of monitors, his attention focused on the one displaying Shepard's cell. She was curled up on her side, her eyebrows furrowed in a frown. She tossed and turned in the throes of a nightmare. She would thrash now and then, her blanked partially spilled onto the floor.

He wondered what was plaguing her dreams. Sleep deprivation was one of the various supporting techniques used in interrogation, but he didn't particularly enjoy using it. Usually, the prisoners inadvertently did it to themselves anyway, their anxiety keeping them from a good night's sleep or from sleep entirely.

The door at the back of the room slid open and General Victus entered. The analysts all stood up at the same time to salute the general, who waved them off to go back to work. He stood next to Garrus and surveyed the monitors.

"How are we doing, General?"

"Not good, not bad. The Alliance has been pretty quiet," Adrien replied. "A bit too quiet, if you ask me. They're planning something big. I just don't know what." His gaze fell on Shepard. "Hopefully she can tell us."

"I'll do my best, sir."

The general nodded and turned to leave. Garrus turned as well, "A couple of questions, sir." Adrien stopped and looked at Garrus, giving him a nod to continue. "How did the Alliance learn of the outpost? Shepard had mentioned that the information was taken from one of their captives, but hardly anyone knows of it. It's in an obscure location, and honestly, inconsequential. Why did the Alliance think it was important enough to actually hold encryption keys?"

"Hmm," Adrien paused to consider his words. "I may have divulged the location to a couple of recruits in a bar. They were excitedly sharing that they were to leave for a mission the next day as back-up to an infiltration team sent to get the Alliance's keys. So I dropped a hint that the outpost had ours."

Garrus coughed. The general was known for his unorthodox methods, and here was another one to add to the list. "Interesting strategy, sir. Did it pan out as you expected?"

Adrien frowned. "While I prefer that none of us are captured by the enemy, it is inevitable in this war." He gave a small shrug and clasped his hands behind his back. "If they didn't send anybody to infiltrate the outpost, then, other than the soldier, we have lost nothing. If they did, there was no way for me to tell who'd they send of course, but it could be safely assumed that it would be someone of Shepard's caliber."

"Any other questions?"

Garrus shook his head and saluted. "No sir."

"Good luck, Vakarian." With that, Adrien turned to leave.

* * *

The mess hall was a large well-lit room. Most of the permanent staff and visiting military personnel spent their downtime here. There would always be at least one person sitting at a table at any hour of the day. At the moment, it was early in the morning and the room was filled with staff preparing for another day of work.

Garrus and Lantar took their seats in a back corner, their trays piled up with food. The next session with Shepard was in an hour, and Garrus wanted to go over a couple of things with Lantar, staring with: "'How about a drink after all this is over?' Are you starting a human fetish or something?"

Lantar paused, a sliver of food halfway through his mouth. He popped it in, chewed it a bit and swallowed. "Naw, I was just teasing," Lantar said with a dismissive wave. He paused, then looked at Garrus with sudden interest. "Why? Want her for yourself?"

"Wha—", Garrus sputtered and raised an eyebrow at Lantar. "I don't think I want to know you arrived at that conclusion."

Lantar chuckled at his friend's discomfort. "So, is there something specific that we need to get out of Shepard?"

Garrus swallowed and took a sip of his drink. "General Victus mentioned that the Alliance has gone quiet."

Lantar nodded in understanding. "They're planning something big, and it's about to happen soon."

"Right, so we need to find out what it is. At the very least, we need to keep the casualties at a minimum."

"Well then," Lantar said after taking his last gulp. "Let's get to it!"


	11. Chapter 11

"Do you think she even knows about whatever this big plan is?" Lantar asked Garrus as they walked down the hallway to one of the interrogation rooms. "She might not even be part of the op."

"That's what I plan to find out."

Shepard was already inside the interrogation room, sitting on one side. The room was exactly the same, but is time it didn't have a table or a mirror. She looked up at the turian pair as they entered.

"Commander Shepard? Garrus Vakarian." He stood behind the two chairs that were across Shepard. "I'll be conducting the session today."

She nodded weakly as Garrus and Lantar took their seats. Garrus noted that she looked a bit wan. He scooted forward with his chair, his knees a foot away from Shepard's. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," Shepard replied, as if trying to convince herself too. Her stomach grumbled. She looked away from Garrus' gaze. He frowned. She had gone one day without food, but he doubted that it would affect her this much. Surely she had missions where she'd have to go with little to no food for _days_. His mind flashed to the surveillance video of her sleeping. Even he had a couple of nights where he wished he had stayed up instead of going to bed. Sometimes there were nightmares that just drained you of all your energy resulting in you waking up feeling worse than before. He wondered if that was the case with Shepard.

"You'll have something to eat after this," Lantar said. "How do you find your room?"

Shepard shrugged. A miniscule emotion skittered across her face for a second. Guilt? Embarrassment? Garrus considered a line of questioning to explore that emotion, but quickly decided against it. He needed to see it again, to confirm what it was.

He leaned back against his chair and continued, "Going back to the previous session, you mentioned that you were able to extract the location of the outpost that you attempted to infiltrate from one of your prisoners." Shepard nods. "I didn't have any involvement in that." There was that expression again. He decided to test his theory that she disagreed with the Alliance's treatment of turian prisoners, even if she wasn't part of it. It was easier for some soldiers to treat the enemy as objects; it was easier not to think of them as living, breathing people like themselves. It made it easier to take a life. He had a feeling that Shepard was not like that, but he needed to figure out exactly what she felt.

Garrus paused for effect and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, his head bowed down. "How are my turian brothers and sisters faring?" he asked softly.

Shepard steeled herself, but not without a fleeting wince. He was right. She tried hard to hide it, but, "I'm guessing they're not treated as well as you are."

She faced him, challenging him with her eyes. "Maybe I'm just special." She attempted to display indifference, but it was clear that she was affected. She may not know exactly what interrogation methods were used, it looks like they were borderline torture at the least.

Garrus said frowned but nothing. She'll find out later just how false that statement was. He leaned back onto his chair and crossed his arms. Back to business. "We just received some intelligence that the Alliance is planning something big. Of course, we don't know any details."

By intelligence, he was mostly referring to General Victus' intuition. Again, Shepard didn't need to know.

He didn't even need to ask a question, because Shepard immediately had something to say. "Are you really expecting me to divulge that kind of information?" she retorted with a raised brow.

"It was worth a shot, but what we would like to know, at the very least, is if it will be in a civilian area. We'd like to keep the collateral damage as low as possible."

Shepard looked incredulously at him. "Do you honestly think we would resort to terrorism?"

"There have been attacks on some of our border colonies." There was also the fact that the Alliance wasn't adverse to using torture in their interrogation tactics, but there was no need to mention that again. It was already firmly planted in Shepard's head.

"That was _Cerberus._"

"Cerberus?" Of course they knew who Cerberus was, but she didn't need to know that.

"They're paramilitary, but also dabble in finance, research and development, and other sciences. They believe in the advancement of humanity through any method. The ends justify the means," Shepard explained, rubbing her temples with one hand. "They do have former members of the Alliance in their ranks, those who are tired of the rules and red tape. They believe that their heinous methods will be vindicated by history once they've accomplished their mission."

Garrus looked at her skeptically. "Plausible deniability. Are you sure that it isn't a black ops branch of the Alliance, or an autonomous branch that conduct their own ops without the knowledge or direction of Alliance brass?"

Shepard pressed her lips into a thin line. "Believe what you want," she sighed and shrugged. _So there is such a group_.

Silence fell in the room, broken only by the breathing of its occupants. After a minute or two, Garrus whispered. "A school," he said, then continued when he got Shepard's attention. "A _school_ was attacked."

"It wasn't the Alliance!"

"Right."

"I have nothing to prove to you." Shepard was shutting down. If he left it at this, she'd go back to her room and easily forget about the session. He needed her to go back disquieted.

Softly, "My niece went to that school."

Shepard looked straight into Garrus eyes, her expression softening. "I'm sorry."

Garrus didn't exactly have a niece in that school, but he did have a friend who lived in that colony. It was her daughter who went to the school. He remembered the anxiety and desperation in his friend's last video call to him. He let the anger he felt then creep into himself now. Shepard was starting to think that they would always be soft on her. While he disagreed with fear and control tactics, he knew that she wouldn't respect someone who she perceived as weak. Just because he was being nice meant that he couldn't display _some_ dominance.

He scoffs. "Sorry?" He slowly stood up, letting the rage wash over him. He could tell that she sensed it, because her eyes widened slightly in surprise. He rushed at her before she could react, grabbing her by the neck. Her chair fell back with a clang as he lifted her and slammed her unto the wall behind her. "'Sorry' isn't going to cut it, Shepard," low growl, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. She clutched his wrist, unable to look at him in the eye. But she quickly recovered and leveled a glare back at him. _Got you_.

Lantar slowly approached the pair and rested a hand on Garrus' shoulder. He didn't say anything. He didn't need to. Garrus closed his eyes and shook his head, as if to clear his mind. Despite how it may look to anyone else, Lantar knew that Garrus was still in complete control of himself. It was just an act.

Garrus softly grunted and lowered Shepard gently. He looked down at her neck and saw a slightly red indentation where his hand had been. He muttered a quick apology under his breath and turned to leave. Lantar stays next to Shepard as they both watched Garrus exit. He looks down at her from the corner of his eye, watching her as she absently rubbed her neck, still staring at the door. He sighed and moved toward the door, pausing to say: "There'll be some food for you when you get back to your room," before leaving.


	12. Chapter 12

Lantar found Garrus outside in the hallway, already headed towards the surveillance room. He jogged a bit to catch up, punching Garrus' shoulder when he reached his friend. "Why did you do that? I thought we were supposed to get her comfortable with us? Now she's probably clammed up."

"Hmm?" Garrus mumbled and scratched a mandible, distracted. He tilted his head, his focus now on his friend. "That was just payback for the punch she gave you."

"It didn't even connect."

Garrus chuckled. "True, but I wasn't that rough with her. She probably won't bruise." He paused and tilted his head. "Well, maybe she will for a day."

Lantar looked at him expectantly, so Garrus explained: "Based on her experiences so far, if she figured that Athixa is the exception, she'll expect all of us to be easy on her. We are, in a way, but I don't want her to be too complacent." Lantar nodded in understanding. If Shepard was too relaxed, it would be easy for her to ignore their questions and assume that she had the upper hand. She had the answers they wanted. She had control. They needed her to remember that even if they treated her like a guest, she was still a prisoner.

"So, do you think she knows anything about this plan?"

Garrus nodded. "I believe she knows _of_ it, but not any of the details."

"Why do you say that?"

"If she knew what it was exactly, she would have just shut up, in case she let something slip," Garrus replied. "Then again, she's probably too good for that to happen," he added, scratching a mandible. "How about you? What did you get from the two sessions so far?"

Lantar crossed his arms and tilted his head, collecting his thoughts. "She's loyal to the Alliance, but not in the same way you and I are to the Hierarchy. Military life is integral to us, an inescapable duty. For Shepard, the military was her entire life, but she had a choice. She could have chosen to leave it when she turned 18, yet she chose to stay and enlist." He paused. "You could even say the Alliance is her family."

"Exactly," Garrus said, nodding. "However, like any family, she probably has a small group of people who are like close relatives, those you love and trust wholeheartedly." He laughed a bit. "The rest would be relatives you'd prefer to see only on holidays."

Lantar gave a low laugh. "Or not at all."

Silence fell between the two after that, as they continued walking. Neither of them seemed to want to talk about the other thing they learned: the knowledge that their kind was being tortured for information. He shuddered at the thought. Although his team used methods that promoted cooperation, there were still some that preferred to control through fear. If any of them knew what the Alliance, or a section of it, was doing, they'd push to start doing the same.

Of course, he'd shoot that down. They'll quickly fall in line, but that knowledge would taint their interrogations of their human prisoners. His team was disciplined, but there were just some things you couldn't help, especially if they were already inclined towards fear tactics to begin with. Torture was just another step further.

Unfortunately, he couldn't erase or lock the video recording of the session without arousing suspicion. There was no way out of it. The only thing he could do was try to keep it within his team.

There was at least one positive outcome to the session: Shepard has a heart.

* * *

In the surveillance room, one of the interrogation team members sat at a terminal, replaying the session. Behind him stood a recon scout whose fury was increasing by the second.


	13. Chapter 13

Shepard and her escort made their way back to her room. They walked in silence, her guard not having anything to say, and she lost in thought. She absently rubbed her neck, flinching when her fingers touched the bruise there. It wasn't as bad as she expected, though she recalled that Garrus' grip on her neck wasn't tight at all, only enough to keep her up against the wall.

She had sensed his intent before understanding what he had said due to the translation lag. She could have dodged his attack, but his sudden aggression surprised her. Shepard frowned, cursing herself for getting too complacent. However, she understood his rage. He was venting, and she conveniently provided an outlet. She knew it wasn't personal, and that he could have done much more damage if he wanted to.

Or maybe it wasn't about the attack on the colony at all. As much as she wracked her brain for an answer, Shepard couldn't figure out what it could be.

The pair finally reached Shepard's room. Before Shepard could enter, a voice called out to her. She turned to the voice. It was Dr. T'Soni. "Shepard. I'm sorry, but it seems Lantar forgot that meals today are communal. Your lunch will be served elsewhere."

Shepard didn't have any energy to question it and followed the asari's lead, the escort taking his leave. They made their way to another building through a covered bridge. It had no windows and was more like a long metal tunnel, but above ground. On the other side was a short hallway and large double doors. Liara tapped her omni-tool and the doors slid open.

The room was roughly the size of a basketball court. A few tables and benches sat on the far end of the room, arranged like in a cafeteria. There was also a small cluster of couches nearer the entrance. Natural light from above filled the room with a gentle glow. Multiple races occupied the room, though most were human. There were a couple of krogans and a batarian. Shepard didn't recognize anyone, though one of the krogans looked familiar.

Liara held her hand out to Shepard. "It's temporary," she said, revealing a tiny device with an almost thread-thin translucent cable. "But if you'd like, we can give you a translation implant." Shepard took the device from Liara. It looked like one of those obsolete hearing aids she saw in museums as a child. "There will still be a slight lag, but it's better what we've been using."

After Shepard attached the device to her left ear, Liara nodded and turned to leave. "I'll come back for you later, Shepard." Liara said. "I'd like to take a look at your neck later, and your head too. You might have hit it." Shepard was pretty sure it was her back that made contact with the wall, not her head, but it was always better to be sure, so she nodded.

Speaking of the familiar krogan, he was making his way towards her.

"Shepard."

She finally recalled who he was. "Wrex." Urdnot Wrex was a krogan battlemaster, a mercenary and a bounty hunter. He was one of many mercenaries who were hired for 'consultation'. Shepard wasn't an idiot. She knew that there were some higher ups who thought hiring mercs was a good idea, especially krogans, since they were tough enough to take on the turians, and still bore a grudge against them to boot. The _Corsairs_ were probably tasked to hire and coordinate with the mercs. That way the Alliance could deny any future allegations that they had used mercs. Of course, part of the contract was probably to shut their mouths about working for the Alliance, but Shepard wondered how many of the captured mercs either broke during an interrogation, or, more likely, simply gave everything the interrogator wanted because it was easier that way.

Somehow, she and the krogan had gotten along well together over the various briefings regarding turians.

"So the great Commander Shepard can be brought down."

"I could say the same to you." That brought out a hearty chuckle from the krogan. He looked at her curiously. "Like it rough, Shepard?" She glared at him as he sniffed. "A turian. Didn't think you were into that, Shepard."

Shepard crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. That elicited another chuckle from the Krogan who turned and lead the way to the lineup for food. They each filled their trays and sat at a table at the far end of the room. They made small conversation over their meal, though often simply settling into companionable silence.

Shepard had nearly finished her food when she felt a presence behind her. Instinct told her to duck, as well as Wrex's amused expression. A fist soared above her as she rolled off the bench, and onto the floor. She looked up to see another fist coming at her. She rolled to the side, sweeping her legs to the side and under her, quickly pushing herself up with her hands, hopping away. She immediately settled into a defensive stance, facing her attacker, Athixa.

"Filthy pyjack," the turian spat out. Shepard kept her mouth shut, not wanting to provoke her more. Her cuffs placed her in a great disadvantage, though she hoped that it would at least allow her to defend herself. If she understood correctly, as long as it didn't sense any force directed at a turian, she should be fine. That meant Shepard needed to use Athixa's momentum and energy against her. She tested her theory by lightly bouncing on the balls of her feet. The fact that it allowed her to fall into a defensive stance encouraged her.

Shepard wondered what provoked the attack, and was promptly answered when Athixa venomously seethed at her: "How can you sit so comfortably while my kind are starved and tortured in the hands of yours?!" At that moment, Shepard knew that nothing she'd say would placate or even reach the furious turian woman. They faced each other, their breaths the only sound in the room. Everyone else had gone quiet.

Except for Wrex who continued munching, enjoying the show.

Athixa lunged at Shepard. Shepard dodged to the side and Athixa responded with a swing of her leg. Shepard ducked and rolled away, facing her opponent again. Athixa threw another punch with her right hand. Shepard stepped back with her left foot, feeling the turian's fist whoosh past her face. She grabbed Athixa's wrist with her right hand, followed the direction of the punch for a split second before stepping forward with her left and using Athixa's own momentum to flip her over with a downward jerk of her wrist. Athixa fell on her back with a loud thud.

Shepard backed away as the turian pushed herself up from the floor with her hands and got up on her feet. As she suspected, the cuffs wouldn't activate unless she was on the offensive. Athixa growled low, as if concentrating her rage as energy inside herself, then let it out in a roar as she leapt at Shepard. Shepard moved to sidestep it, but was stopped by an invisible force. She glanced at Athixa, who was frozen as well, surrounded by blue energy. A stasis field.

"_What_ is going on here?" a voice roared behind Shepard, the flanging voice amplifying the anger behind it. She immediately recognized it, simultaneously realizing that she was right: Garrus was holding back during the session. He was simply livid right now. All she knew was that she didn't want to be in Athixa's place. He walked over to stand in between them, facing Athixa. All Shepard could see was his broad back.

Liara took her place next to Shepard, her hands raised and glowing blue. The stasis fields were hers. Without taking her eyes off Athixa, she whispered: "Are you alright, Shepard?" The stasis field let up a little, allowing Shepard to nod.

Shepard noticed that Garrus was completely silent. She could see Athixa past him, glaring, though it faltered every so often under Garrus' gaze. She wondered what expression he had at the moment. "Come with me Lieutenant Cartus."He started walking away without a backward glance. Liara lowered her hands and slowly removed the stasis fields. Athixa glowered at Shepard before following Garrus. Liara nodded to Shepard and left as well.

Shepard collapsed back down onto her bench across Wrex, who had just finished his meal. "That female just wants some cock," he said and licking his fingers clean. "Probably that interrogation officer's. What's his name?" More licking. "Ah, Vakarian." Shepard planted her elbow onto the table and slammed her forehead into her palm. What the hell was she listening to? She sighed, wishing the day would end soon.


	14. Chapter 14

Garrus stepped into an empty interrogation room, one without the observation glass. Athixa followed him in, a frown still plastered on her face. She stood by the door, with Garrus on the opposite end of the room, facing the wall. Moments passed. Athixa took a tentative step forward, wanting to break the silence.

Garrus beat her to it. "Why Shepard?" Athixa didn't expect this question. She knew that Garrus didn't need to ask why or how. He had already figured out the how and why, as expected of the lead interrogator: She had seen the video, and felt that someone had to pay.

As for his question, she hadn't really given any thought into actually _choosing_ Shepard. It was simple: She had been the one who admitted to that the Alliance condoned or at the least, turned a blind eye to the use of torture. She had also been the only prisoner Athixa had interacted with. There was no other explanation.

Right?

Garrus never asked or said anything without purpose. The question only had two words, but those two words held a complexity that Athixa couldn't decipher. It bothered her. Did that hidden message only have something to do with her actions, or did it stem from him? Then again, she could just be reading too much into it and the question was just to segue into something else.

She decided to go with her gut and assume that it wasn't a totally innocuous question, by answering with a question. "Does it matter who it was?"

"It doesn't," he replied, finally turning away from the wall. If it didn't matter, why ask then? Athixa sighed internally; there was no point to wondering. It was just a waste of time. She stepped forward. "Why should we bother to care about these pyjacks when our own are tortured in their hands?" She practically spat out _pyjacks_. "We should do the same to Shepard and find out what more she knows _now_. Your methods are too slow." Part of her wondered why she was goading him. She perfectly knew how effective he was at what he did. Another part didn't care. She needed this—needed to let it all out.

If her jab at him bothered Garrus, he didn't show it. "You know that's against regulations," he said, turning to face her. She hissed angrily. "Regulations you probably wrote! Why do you insist in protecting the enemy when they treat us as less than animals?"

"We can't stoop to their level, especially if the ones responsible are going against their own regulations." Garrus turned his gaze to the side, closing his eyes for a moment. "But don't take that as tolerating what the humans are doing. I hate to think what they're doing, but I can't let that cloud my thoughts and actions."

Garrus suddenly looked tired and it startled Athixa out of her anger. It finally hit her how much pressure he was under. She, on the other hand, only had to follow orders and shoot. She couldn't imagine how it would feel to know that what you did could mean life or death for hundreds, even thousands, of your fellow soldiers.

"Are you going to keep this information?" she asked a bit softer this time, though still a bit skeptical with a little bite in her words.

He looked at her with a slightly curious look, as if wondering what happened to her rage. "For now. I want to get more details, if it is actually condoned or even encouraged or if it's a rogue group or a secret division of sorts." He tilted his head towards her. "That way we won't have any more attacks on the prisoners."

Athixa gave him a baleful look. Garrus chuckled, but quickly turned serious again. "Athixa, I need the humans to trust the team, to trust me. That won't happen if they keep expecting to be attacked," he said, moving to the door.

"So stay away from Shepard," Garrus said as he stepped past Athixa to exit.

Athixa frowned. It wasn't "them" or "the humans". It was "Shepard." She didn't turn to follow, staying in her spot and before the door slid shut, she whispered. "What's so special about Shepard?"

* * *

_Hi All!_

_I just wanted to say thank you to all the reviewers, but especially to guest reviewers since I can't send PMs to you._

_To the guest reviewer who said:_

_"_Remember, shepard is a trained soldier, she'd have been drilled on how to resist torture. She's not going to start blabbing just because she's 'tired of war' or the big, sexy turian asked her too._"_

_Not entirely sure what you're referring to—if it was something that she said in Chapter 7 or if this is a reminder for future chapters. If it's the latter, then I'll double check the chapters I've already posted over in the KMeme, but I'd rather not edit them too much and re-post them here as is (latest chapters will run over there first). I don't think I had Shepard reveal anything sensitive. If it's the former, then specifics would have helped. _

_Name and rank is standard, and Lantar already knew the answers to all of the questions he asked and Shepard knows that. So the only one that I could see as problematic was that she told him that the Alliance did their own 'interviewing'. I decided to have my Shepard say that because giving any other answer would have forked to another path of the story that I'm not following. I needed every single bit of that chapter. However, I admit that I could have done better, though I don't have enough skill to pull off this story with a Shepard who only says "...". _

_Also, other than the slight sensory deprivation in Chapter 6 (if you even count that), there won't be any torture by team Vakarian in this story._

_Thank you though for taking the time to post your review._

_-picchar_


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